Hermione Draco Story
by HarryPotterIsMyHomeBoy
Summary: This is a HermioneDraco story. It is not one of those fantastical, annoyingly perfect and completely fictitious accounts of an unrealistic coupling of Hogwarts students. This is about the real Hermione and the real Draco.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a Hermione/Draco story. It is _not_ one of those fantastical, annoyingly perfect (and completely fictitious) accounts of an unrealistic coupling of Hogwarts students. This is about the _real_ Hermione and the _real_ Draco._

Pages lay scattered haphazardly on her desk. A large book was opened to a complicated diagram, and a quill was stuck in the middle of another, even larger book. A scroll was open and half a paragraph had been written under the heading "The Biddelia Charm." A puzzled expression came over Ron's face.

"This doesn't seem like Hermione, she never leaves homework unfin- Harry? What are you doing?"

Harry was struggling with the latch as he tried to open one of the common room windows. His attention was focused completely on the grounds below. At the sound of Ron's voice his expression became distracted, even a little annoyed.

"I just saw…errr…there" The window swung outward and Harry hoisted himself onto the ledge so that he could peer straight down to the base of the tower.

"What is it?" Ron left the desk and went to Harry.

"But I saw – Oh, I thought it was, never mind."

"Who? What'd you see?" Now Ron was on tiptoe, trying to catch a glimpse out the window from around Harry. Harry hopped down from the ledge and strode to the desk.

"It really doesn't make sense that Hermione would leave all this out, come on Ron, let's go check the library."

Ron closed the window and followed Harry out of the common room, wearing the same expression of confusion. Harry had been very distant lately. Now that he thought about it, so had Hermione. They both seemed so preoccupied, and Ron hadn't had a real conversation with either of them in days. He had been spending increasing amounts of time with Seamus and Dean. Hermione kept disappearing and Harry was always in a hurry in order to get to the common room and pore over thick texts until the early morning. Ron wondered how it had taken him so long to notice, but then again his on-off relationship with Lavender had kept him busy over the last few weeks. Were they all starting to drift apart?

They walked in silence to the library, both thinking hard.

Harry felt slightly guilty that he had decided to go to the library with the main purpose in mind of finding some more books and not to find Hermione. He was so behind. How would he ever finish by the end of the year? Hermione was the least of his worries. First he had to somehow shake off Ron so that he could search the shelves on his own.

"I'll go check in between the shelves, you can go to the tables, she's probably working on some other homework," Harry said to Ron, heading quickly in the direction of the bookshelves. If he could only find the right book…


	2. Chapter 2

No more books could be checked out of the main library on the subject. Harry had all of them. Okay, that just means that tomorrow I will have to get a teacher's signature to go into the restricted section, no problem. He knew it would be a problem though. No teacher would willingly give him permission if they knew what he was up too. Too bad Lockhart was gone…

Hermione was not in the library. She was sitting at the desk in the common room finishing her essay when Harry and Ron returned.

"Oh, there you are Hermione," said Harry distantly. "I'm going up to read for a bit…" he trailed off as he turned towards the stairs.

"What? He – Hermione! We have been looking all over for you! We checked the library then the dining hall, and Hagrid's, and then we came back and you weren't here so we went back to the library! Where've you been? And why did Harry go upstairs? He was with me, why isn't he mad at you? What did he have to go _read_, and WHERE WERE YOU?

Hermione looked up from her scroll. "Ron, you don't have to be so dramatic! You're not my mum; I don't need to tell you every place I go! Harry can do what he wants, and I need to finish this essay, so leave me alone! Speaking of the essay, you need to do yours too!" For a second the room was silent. Ron didn't know what to say.

"Sorry if it bothers you that I wanted to make sure you hadn't been _kidnapped_; I won't bother looking for you the next time you're gone all afternoon! Oh, and by the way, I've already finished my essay." Ron turned away from her and headed towards the stairs. He was halfway there when he remembered that Harry would be reading, and he didn't really want to go to sleep just yet. Instead he threw open the portrait of the fat lady, hoping to sneak into the kitchens for some cake.

He didn't understand what had gotten into Harry and Hermione. Harry was always studying and Hermione was always out. It was completely out of character. Harry had even seemed distracted at Quidditch the other day, missing four snitches in a row and ending early. Ron had even noticed a paper that Hermione got back that was only six out of ten in charms the other day. Ron walked down the corridors to the underground kitchens deep in thought about his two best friends.

"Oh, hey Ron." It was Lavender. Ron looked at her apprehensively. What kind of mood was she in today? He couldn't remember if they were together or not. She was coming out of the prefect bathroom. Lavender wasn't a prefect, but since she was friend's with Ginny she knew the password and used it frequently. She came up to Ron and snaked her arm around his back.

"Where are you going?" Lavender asked coyly. _I guess we're not mad at each other_, thought Ron, optimistically.

"Kitchens. You want to come?" He didn't really care if she came or not, but he supposed it would be in the best interest of their relationship to ask.

"Sure, I'm kind of hungry," Ron put his arm across Lavender's back and they walked towards the kitchens.


	3. Chapter 3

It was so frustrating. No matter how much he worked at it, Harry just could not get it. A voice in the back of his head kept telling him to ask Hermione, get her to help, but this only made him angrier. Did he need Hermione's help with everything? He didn't want her to know about this either. It was already December and he had made no progress. Every book in the library that even skimmed over the topic was in his possession; he had hoped that he might be able to leach some information from even the shortest blurbs. Nothing had helped. He repeated the incantation again.

_"The Biddelia Charm is one of the most difficult protective spells…" _Hermione couldn't concentrate. She had written the same sentence twice, scratched one out, and written it again. Why had she left this essay until the last minute? She glanced out the window. Just hours earlier she had been out on the snow covered grounds with him… The Biddelia Charm, the Biddelia charming… How could one person do this to her? Just one moment with him and now she couldn't concentrate for more than a few seconds. It was so unlike Hermione to fall head over heels for a guy she hadn't been able to stand for the previous six years. But he'd changed. She had changed too, but she never thought this much. It was on the train on the way to Hogwarts that he had first surprised her…

"Hey, Grang-, Hermione. Can I talk to you?"

"Whatever you have to say Malfoy is unimportant."

"No, please, Hermione, just listen to me." It was the pleading tone in Draco Malfoy's voice that interested Hermione the most. She stepped into his compartment and sat opposite him. She met him straight in the eyes. That was when she noticed a dark red scab across his cheek. His eye was puffy and black.

Despite herself, Hermione felt compelled to ask what had happened.

"Long story." It was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Hermione, for everything."

There was another long silence as Hermione, astonished, watched a tear leak out of Draco's wounded eye.

Hermione was astonished. Malfoy was crying and apologizing? Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Malfoy, I don't have time for your games." She stood up and reached for the door handle. It was locked. Looking back at Malfoy she saw his wand in his hand. His cheeks were glistening with more tears, and he looked miserable. Slowly Hermione returned to the seat. Hermione couldn't help being intrigued by what Malfoy had to say. He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his robes.

"I know you probably won't ever forgive me for what I have put you," his voice faltered, then "and your friends through, but please hear me out." His tone was quiet, with that same pleading he had used earlier. In barely a whisper he said, "You must hate me."

For a moment Hermione could think of nothing to say. Did he expect her to console him?

"Er, Malfoy, what is it you wanted to tell me? Other than, you know, that you're sorry and everything."

"I want you to know why I hated you." His response was so sudden that Hermione was taken aback. His eyes were burning into hers with such vehemence that she had to turn away.


	4. Chapter 4

Why he hated her? That seemed obvious – she was muggle born, he was pure blood, she was a friend of Harry Potter, and his family strongly supported Voldemort. What was there for him to explain?

"The truth is, it doesn't bother me that you are a mud- muggle born. My family's devotion to Voldemort does not represent my own feelings… Because of my father's _unique_ parenting I have found it difficult to break from his shadow," his tone was disconnected and very formal sounding. When he brought up his father a steely glint appeared in his eyes, and his expression hardened. "But now I want to come clean. I don't expect you to ever forgive me, and I will understand if you have no desire to talk to me again…I just wanted you to know, that's all"

Hermione was stunned. That didn't stop her from seeing right through him though.

"So, what you're saying is you wanted to tell me so you could feel better about yourself. Did you honestly think I would buy all that? Really Malfoy… that was a pointless conversation, what did you expect? You just wanted to apologize to _me_? Why not Harry, or Ron? I have to go meet up with them, you're wasting my time."

She threw open the compartment door. It smashed against the frame, but Hermione was already half way down the narrow aisle. She didn't turn around. If she had she would have seen Malfoy's pale face peering around the door. He wasn't sneering at her, or laughing, but instead he looked worried, almost sad. He definitely wasn't his usual boastful self when Crabbe and Goyle returned to his compartment…

She had to finish this essay "_The Biddelia Charm is_…"

Lavender was yelling in the middle of the crowded common room. He wasn't really listening to the content of her words, but marveling at the astounding decibel her voice could reach. She was squealing about some trivial incident in the dining hall.

"RONALD! Are you _listening_ to me? I can't BELIEVE YOU!" Ron was staring into the fire, remember not to long ago when Harry had gotten so upset when he and Hermione had asked him to teach defense against the dark arts… and in the fourth year when Harry had been talking to Sirius in the fire and Ron had walked in. Ron looked up at Lavender.

"Honestly, Ron, do you EVER listen…" Hermione… she always said that when she was angry or just thought Ron was being stupid. Ron turned around and started heading to the boy's dormitory, ignoring Lavender's shrieks that followed him up the swirling staircase. He had to talk to Harry; they couldn't all slip apart so easily. But when Ron entered the room he saw Harry's cheek was glued to the pages of an ancient textbook, and his eyelids fluttered rapidly. Ron was about to turn away and go to bed, disappointment clearly etched in his face, when curiosity got the better of him. That wasn't one of the schoolbooks, he and Harry were in all the same classes. What had been keeping Harry up so late each night? Ron slowly extracted the book from under Harry's snoring head. He turned it right side up and began to read

"The following spell is one of utmost difficulty. Only highly trained witches and wizards should attempt it, because it can have many dangerous, disfiguring side effects. The successful wizards who have completed this transfiguration are listed in alphabetical order below, along with the - " A hand came up from the bed and snatched the book from Ron's grasp. Harry's face was wide awake, and livid. He snapped the book shut, hiding the title under his hand, and started in on Ron.

"Ron? What were you doing? Snooping? I thought I could trust you, but clearly not! I was asleep! And you came and _took _my book! What are you playing at?" His words came out fast and the sentences jumbled. Lack of sleep had left deep hollows under his eyes. His face was white and pasty, and he looked slightly emaciated.

"No, Harry, I just came up here to talk to you - "

"TALK to me? Then why were you standing over me holding my book while I was asleep?"

"No, mate, come on! I saw that you were asleep, so I was _moving_ the book! You had your face resting on it, your drool was sticking to the pages!"

"Yeah, bloody right you were _moving_ it! I guess from now on I'll just have to be a bit more careful around you!" He opened the trunk at the end of his bed and dropped the book in. Not taking his eyes off Ron he rummaged around in his bedside table, eventually locating the key. Then he got off his bed and proceeded to pick all is belongings off the floor. Once everything has in his trunk he slammed the top shut and twisted the key. All the while Ron stood gaping at him.

"Harry, mate, you need some rest," he said in the voice in which one might reason with an escapee from the insane asylum.

"Piss off!" Harry flopped back onto his bed and pulled the curtains shut around him. Ron stared at the crimson velvet for a few seconds before he went off to his bed, feeling considerable worse than he had when Lavender was yelling at him.


End file.
